Word: gushes
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...alienate others with their "sneaky" ways, the pro-cat element in the nation is growing. A champion of the cat is Milan Greer, 39, whose book, The Fabulous Feline, has just been published by Dial Press. A professional cat breeder, Greer writes with none of the "dear little pussycat" gush that marks the work of most literary cat lovers. In fact, he is suspicious of anyone who claims to love cats; cats do not love people, he declares, and they probably do not even love other cats. A plane of mutual respect is as high as any owner-cat relationship...
...bachelor approaching 50. But in recent weeks Gardiner had been seen with Eunice Oakes, the striking, thirtyish widow of William Pitt Oakes (who died in 1958, 15 years after the still unsolved murder in Nassau of his father, Multimillionaire Miner Sir Harry Oakes). One columnist even overheard Bobbie gush: "She sends me." Last week the Long Island lord ended the society-page speculation, gave Eunice an olive-sized diamond (plucked from a grandmother's earring), announced that on March 21 she would be to the manor borne. Why the rush? Replied Gardiner: "I don't want Eunice...
DECISION AT DELPHI, by Helen MacInnes (434 pp.; Harcourt, Brace; $4.95), is a reasonably diverting romance that is not as taut as it should be because its tale of dark doings in Greece and Sicily is interleaved with too much travel gush. The author's proposition is that a band of left-of-Moscow terrorists in present-day Greece plans to set the Balkans afire by assassinating Marshal Tito. The wandering innocent who runs afoul of and eventually vanquishes these unpleasant plotters is an American architect named Strang. His wily adversary is a monster of plumbless evil who calls...
...Producer Raoul J. Levy for a record-breaking $57,000. When he decided that the story was too hot to shoot, after all, he sold it to Malle, who explains: "What encouraged me the most was that everybody advised me against it." His solution: rendering the novelist's gush of gutter talk through Sennett-like changes of pace, face and place-with virtually a sight-gag per frame. The result: a remarkably faithful translation of the book that the Paris Express summed up as "90 minutes of cinematographic paroxysm...
Jessica tells her tale with girlish gush, brilliantly preserved a generation after the events, and there is enough intra-family whimsy to stop A. A. Milne him self in his Teddy bear tracks. They all had special names: the narrator is "Little D." to "Muv," and "Decca" to the rest of the world. They even had a private language, examples of which are merci lessly given. It is all very charming at first, but less so when Decca and Boud (big, "sullen," "baleful" Unity) get past the hair-pulling stage and make the big world their playroom. Boud took...